We Interrupt This Scripted Drama for (In)Appropriate Product Placement
by jenlovesbones
Summary: And just when we thought we'd seen the last of the features of a Toyota in the middle of a scene... Now we pose the question, "What other products would make for better product placement in a Bones episode?" A new ficlet series? Probably.
1. KY Yours and Mine

**KY Yours and Mine**

* * *

_**I remember thinking not too long ago how thankful I was for the lack of awkward Toyota product placement/advertising in the middle of Bones episodes this season. But then, last night in **_**The But of the Joke**_**, there was the Prius and Brennan touting its features.**_

_**And today, Revi2 on Twitter tweeted: "When will Bones do product placement for KY? Would be more interesting than Toyota. :)"**_

_**And suddenly, I was overcome with the desire to write (In)appropriate product placement scenarios for Bones (Mondays, 8 pm, on FOX) and to drink a glass of Dos Equis, so I can become the most interesting woman in the world. So, blame Twitter, the world's number one microblogging site, for what's to come.**_

* * *

"Why is this house so cold?" Booth whined as he quickly climbed into bed with a dramatic huff, pulling the covers up to his chin.

"The temperature doesn't bother me," Brennan replied without looking up from the journal she was reading.

"Does that mean you've turned down the thermostat again?"

"No. It was set at 68 degrees, which is optimal temperature for a home while its occupants sleep."

"But this occupant is never going to get to sleep with my teeth chattering through the night."

"You just need to generate some body heat, Booth. And I know exactly how to help you," she added suggestively.

"Oh, you do, do you?" Booth said with a grin, moving his frozen fingers to her legs as he grabbed for her, causing her to jump at the chill.

"Yes, I do," she stated, swatting his cold appendages off her legs as she reached into the drawer of the nightstand beside her.

"This is KY Yours and Mine," she said proudly, putting the bottles on display in her hands. "It provides an invigorating warming sensation for you. A thrilling tingling sensation for me."

"I thought I was responsible for your thrilling tingling sensations," Booth said with a pout.

"Well, of course. But this product is an exciting new way to enhance _our_ intimacy," she stated factually, while pouring a small portion of the "For Him" product into her palm, before sticking her hand underneath the covers in search of her target.

"Oh. Oh God. Wow… that… that does produce a warming sensation," Booth said, moaning as she applied the product generously.

"Now, would you like to pursue other solutions that will warm up your appendages?" she asked, twirling around the "Hers" tube.

Booth grabbed it before pulling her further under the covers while he reached for and flicked off the lamp beside her, only her giggles heard in the darkness.

_*end scene*_

* * *

**_I have ideas for a couple of these… but I'm really more interested in knowing what products _you_ could see Brennan, Booth and the gang promote? :)_**


	2. Chanel No 5

_**The lovely Eyrianone is always one of the first to review for me (:::hugs:::), and when she made her suggestion, I knew I had to write it, ASAP. :) Lol.**_

_**If you have yet to be exposed to the new Chanel campaign, please search Youtube for "Brad Pitt Chanel" before you read. Otherwise, you'll think I've lost my mind*. :)**_

_***I'm not saying that hasn't happened. Just not about this.**_

* * *

**.**

Brennan and Booth arrived at the high-end department store in search of an employee who had become a potential suspect in their latest case.

"Let's talk to the concierge," Brennan said, nodding in the direction of a man greeting a customer.

"Excuse me," Booth said, calling for the concierge's attention. "I'm Special Agent Booth with the FBI. This is my partner, Doctor Temperance Brennan. I'm looking for William Richards. He works here?"

"Yes, sir, he does. Is Mister Richards in trouble?" the concierge asked, while he picked up the phone and dialed an extension.

"We just need to speak with him as soon as possible," Booth said, without giving anything away. The concierge nodded, before speaking to a manager over the phone about Mister Richard's location.

"Why is there a concierge in a department store? That's a hotel thing…" Booth whispered to Brennan.

"Higher end department stores have them to cater to wealthier customers, often those who would be recognized, possibly harassed, if they shopped in public."

"Have you ever shopped like that?"

"Angela wanted to try it once, when she was decorating her new house and pregnant. But she was bored after an hour of people bringing her things, and walked the store herself instead."

"Agent Booth, Mister Richards is working in the beauty department today. Right over there…" the concierge pointed to an area behind his desk and down an aisle by a hundred feet.

"Beauty department," Booth scoffed, as he and Brennan started walking that way. "What kind of guy spends his day selling makeup?"

"Your stereotypes for gender roles are ridiculously outdated sometimes, Booth."

"I'm just saying…" he started, before she cut him off with a tug on his coat.

"That's him, right there," she said, pointing in the man's direction. Richards caught their approach at the same time they spotted him and froze, before he took off running.

"He's running, Bones!" Booth shouted, as they both began to run after him.

Brennan, fueled by adrenaline at the mere concept of a good chase, managed to reach him first, after a left-or-right-standoff around a jewelry counter, and hit him with a full-body tackle. With her knees digging into Richards' back, she looked up to smile at Booth and found he wasn't there.

"Booth!" she shouted, as the man below her struggled. She waved to a security officer who had run up to the scene and waved for his handcuffs. "FBI, we're taking this guy in. Stay and watch him," she commanded, getting up off him after restraining Richards.

"Booth?" she shouted again, retracing her steps for him. A consultant behind one of the counters called for her attention, and pointed to where Booth was sitting, on the floor, up against a display. A younger female hovered over him, apologizing profusely, but Booth remained silent, staring off into nothing.

"Booth?" Brennan called with concerned, falling to her knees in front of him and grasping his face in her hands, to try and focus his vision on her.

"Bones…It's not a journey. Every journey ends, but we go on."

"Oh, for the love…" Brennan uttered, before turning her angry glare on to the young woman. "Did you spray him with perfume?!"

"The world turns and we turn with it," Booth waxed poetically.

"I'm sorry ma'am! I was spraying it for someone else when he ran buy!" the young woman said.

"Plans disappear. Dreams take over," Booth continued.

"It was Chanel No. 5, wasn't it?" Brennan asked and the young woman nodded.

"I'm very careful not to spray men… the direct contact always produces strange side effects, rambling speech, maybe hallucinations, I think? He must have inhaled!" she decreed.

"But wherever I go, there you are," Booth continued. "My luck, my fate, my fortune. My Bones…" he said, shooting Brennan a goofy smile.

"Okay, Booth. The bad news is your colleagues are going to mock you mercilessly for this. The good news, however, is that you are in no condition to drive," Brennan said with a smirk, helping Booth to his feet. "Which means _I_ will get to drive."

Booth groaned as she walked him back to the suspect she had handcuffed to give instructions to the police that had just arrived.

"I am made of blue sky and golden light, and I will feel this way forever, Bones," Booth whispered loudly, with onlookers snickering at him.

"Okay, Booth… Okay," Brennan said with a pacifying pat on his head.

* * *

**_There have been excellent suggestions so far. What's next?!_**


	3. Volkswagen

_**Heh. That is all.**_

* * *

"…All I'm saying is that the Prius is a little small for four of us."

"But we have your SUV."

"That's a company car. If something should happen and I lose my car…"

"Are you planning on a career change soon?"

"No…"

"Trying to get suspended?"

"That's not my point…"

"My Prius sits four people, Booth. Five, actually…"

"It sits three and a half people, and I'm the half that has to fold up to fit in it. Plus, you know, Parker's getting taller and… I know he's not here as often…" Booth said wistfully, as he pulled up to a stop light.

"We've been over this, Booth. Hence the reason we're here driving this… wait. Booth, look!" Brennan shouted, pointing at the car that had just pulled up beside them.

"Wha… is that, is that our suspect in that car?"

"Yes, that's him!" she shouted, as the suspect glanced up and saw the agent and his partner looking down on him.

The suspect's eyes widened, before he hit the gas and sped through the red light in front of him. It took Booth a mere second to process what was happening before he was on the man's tail.

"Call it in, Bones!" he commanded, although she was steps ahead of him, giving an FBI dispatcher the suspect's license plate number.

"Booth! You don't have lights in this car…. At least honk when you're running a light, please!" she demanded, reaching over to the wheel with her hand and pressing it herself.

"Bones! Hands off the wheel!"

"Safety first, Booth! You have children to think about!" she half-said, half-shrieked, as he took a hard left turn into traffic in pursuit of their suspect.

"Hold on!" Booth shouted into a hard right turn.

The chase continued for several more blocks before a police cruiser caught up to them. In another minute, three more cars joined the chase.

After 10 minutes, the suspect drove into an empty parking lot. Thanks to Brennan relaying messages to dispatchers, the officers helped Booth blockade the man into a corner and they surrounded him. Booth jumped out of the car, gun drawn and made a successful arrest.

Soon after, additional FBI agents caught up to them, and Booth and Brennan gave their reports, before heading back to the car.

They both settled into their seats and remained quiet for a moment.

"Well, that wasn't how I expected tonight to go. But… lucky that we stumbled on our suspect," Booth said quietly.

"A coincidence. No such thing as…" she stopped short of saying "luck" when she heard a man who wasn't Booth clear his throat.

"Umm, so this has been… interesting. But, could we maybe head back to the dealership now. Since this was just a test drive."

"Oh…" Booth and Brennan said simultaneously.

"Hello, again," Brennan said, with a small wave as she turned to face the man in the nicely pressed collared shirt, who had looked much less frazzled when they met him.

"I mean, it's practically yours. I'll just need your signature," the nervous car salesman in the back seat said.

"Oh, yeah… right," Booth hummed, before starting the car and pulling away from the scene.

Everyone remained silent for a moment, before Brennan loudly whispered, "We're not actually buying a Volkswagen, right? I thought we'd decided on staying with Toyota, but getting a bigger model…"

Booth looked in the rear view mirror at the crestfallen face of the salesman, and loudly whispered back, "I will say, I'm impressed the car did so well in a high speed chase. Maybe we should consider..."

* * *

_**If you're not recognizing the reference, search "The Volkswagen Sign Then Drive Sales Event 2012" on youtube. Then come back and read. :)**_


	4. The Top 10 Brands

_**This prompt comes from JMHaughey, and I saved it, then struggled to write it, for her birthday. Which was only four days ago, so better late than never. ;)**_

_**Thanks to Some1tookmyname for, well, being awesome. But also the read-through. :)**_

* * *

It had been a long two weeks apart. Booth left D.C. in mid-December to assist with an investigation in the middle of Nebraska. It was the first time since Christine had been born that they need to travel away from the East Coast to investigate a crime. Booth was surprised when he encountered no resistance from Brennan regarding their current situation.

_"Having to investigate from the lab is far from ideal, but I wouldn't feel comfortable with both of us leaving Christine for an extended period of time at her age."_

However, it was only supposed to be one week. Booth arrived to supervise evidence collection and sign off on sending them to Brennan. But weather delayed the arrival of the remains, which prolonged the period of time between the squints work and Booth's ability to narrow in on a suspect. That extra time turned a week into 10 days. And finally, when Booth was ready to go, Omaha sent away all of their planes to brace for an incoming blizzard before Booth could get on a single one of them.

By day 13, Booth had found an all-terrain vehicle to rent and drove to Chicago in time for O'Hare to start flying planes again. But, between the long lines of people who had been bumped from earlier flights to the new airports being shut down in the Northeast (where the blizzard that had stopped him in Nebraska had traveled to), he was stuck yet again. Far from home.

After hours of aimless walking, he spotted an empty corner in a hallway where he could sit down– a premium spot to nab given all the seats and much of the floor space of the airport belonged to other stranded travelers. He settled in, before fumbling for his phone and checking the time. It was 10:59 pm in Chicago.

Which meant in one minute, the clock would strike Midnight in D.C. and he would be missing the start to his daughter's first Christmas Eve.

Another 'baby's first' to be missed. And the worst of it was he didn't know how to make it home by Christmas Day.

He started to nod off when he heard his name being paged over the loud speaker.

He almost hesitated to leave the spot he finally found on the floor, until he realized that the call of his name might mean there was a spot on a plane for him.

He walked to three separate airline desks until he found a courtesy phone and got directions to the correct desk in the next terminal over.

"Hi... Special Agent Seeley Booth. You guys called for me?" he said, flashing his identification.

"Ahh, yes. Mister... uh, Agent Booth. Your plane is here."

"Oh... that's great. Which airline am I flying out with?"

"No airline, sir. Your private plane is outside these doors... down the stairs and across the tarmac."

"My private... what?"

"Right through here, sir," the attendant said, opening the door and waved him through.

Confused, Booth started out the door and down the stairs, only to realize there were several planes on the tarmac and he didn't realize which one the attendant was talking about.

As he started walking down a row, his phone rang and he answered it distractedly.

"Hello..."

"Booth. We're over here..."

"Bones! You're at the airport. You're here?"

"We all are. Christine and Parker are with me," she told him, as he turned down the aisle of another plane in search of her.

"I don't understand..."

"Well, the weather had cleared, and I knew how sad you were going to be, if you missed Christine's first Christmas Eve, so I talked to Hodgins..."

"Ah, you borrowed the Cantilever jet..."

Brennan spotted him from her spot on the stairs of the plane, and ran down them toward Booth, calling his name.

"I can hear you, Bones!" he shouted, turning a corner and running smack-dab into a refrigerator.

"Booth!" Brennan called out, one last time before she stumbled over a washing machine.

"Oww..." they both cried, from their respective positions on the ground.

A baggage handler saw them both crash into the set of appliances, and let out a chuckle as he walked over to them both.

"You know, you won't run into the top 10 appliance brands just anywhere."

* * *

_**And for those non-USAers, the commercial reference can be found at YouTube by searching "Connecting Flights, This Season's Must See."**_


	5. Accepting offers

**You ever had a story you just couldn't finish, and no matter how you end it, you're never happy with it? This is one of those. But I had to finish it and post it already. It's been making me nutty.**

**I started it January 3, 2013. At the request of MiseryMaker, because I loved her idea... even though there's no commercial out there that it's based off of (and that's really what these stories are supposed to be, but it's my thread and I can break my own rules, right?). **

**But really- it should be a commercial. So Kenmore, Maytag, Whirlpool... fight for this product placement (or something better but like it), okay?**

**So MiseryMaker- enjoy this, maybe? And thanks to Some1tookmyname for betaing this a half-dozen times since January. ** ** :-)**

* * *

_**Accepting offers, Kenmore, Maytag and Whirlpool...**_

* * *

"… I do not understand why they are refusing to honor our warranty. We've only had that washing machine for… 17 months," she complained, pausing for a breath to do the math.

"It wasn't a machine flaw that broke it, Bones. It was the burst pipe behind the machine that broke it," Booth said, his hand on her back as they walked together into a large chain hardware store.

"Exactly. The pipe is what burst. And that singular event should not have incapacitated our machine solely and even though apparently, it did, we spent money to invest in a warranty for the appliance set! Therefore, there should be some sort of financial reimbursement owed to us for their machine breaking from such an infinitesimal jostle."

Booth took a deep breath to gather his patience. They had only been having this conversation constantly since they arrived home two nights ago to discover the leak and broken machine in the laundry room. And in between the half-dozen phone calls Brennan had made to the store they purchased the machine from and the machine's manufacturer, nothing yielded Brennan the results she wanted.

"Yes, I know. But the _slight jostle_ busted the motor. So here we are, Bones…" he said, stopping at the end of the aisle that led to all the washing and drying machines and situating her in their direction. "I'm going to go get new pipes, material, washer hoses... You start looking for our new washing machine, please," he said, before turning to walk away – quickly.

"We're not getting the same machine or anything else from that manufacturer, Booth. I don't care if it doesn't match! It's the principle!" Brennan shouted after him, and he waved in response without turning around.

Brennan huffed at his annoyance with her —she has perfectly legitimate reasons to be frustrated— before turning to face the behemoth of an aisle that was the hardware store's appliance section.

The washing machines were paired off with drying machines, in a variety of colors and heights. Top loading. Front loading. Most had high-energy efficient labels. Some with bases to increase their height from the ground.

"Perhaps the bases keep burst pipes from ruining an entire machine," she muttered sarcastically.

She frowned as she passed another machine set by the manufacturer she had been arguing with this week. She tilted her head in consideration of each machine as she considered the spec sheets in front of the washers, before moving on to the next.

After walking the entire aisle once, looking longingly at some of the more energy-efficient front-loaders that used less water to do the same work, she walked back to the machines that looked most like theirs. The washer that died due to poor manufacturing and craftsmanship and an obvious lack of quality control by its producing company, was white and a top-loading machine. While she refused to buy the same brand and model, it made sense (mostly to Booth) to buy something that wasn't drastically different.

The first machine she walked back to that seemed to be a suitable match to the dryer at home… it bothered her. She stood in front of it, opened the lid, looked in, and closed the lid again. She put both hands on the edges of the machine as she read its specs from the tag. It was everything they needed. But still…

Something about it just wasn't right.

She turned a corner and repeated the process for a second machine. And a third. And a fourth.

And then she figured out what was bothering her.

She sized up the four machines, then walked back to the third. She hesitated in front of the washer, before turning around and putting her backside against the machine. She glanced around the aisle in search of anyone nearby, before putting her hands on the machine and lifting herself to sit on it.

She swung her legs. Then swiveled her hips. Then frowned, as the machine shifted slightly.

So she hopped down and walked back to the fourth machine. She put her backside to it. Lifted herself to sit on it with ease. She smiled at its appropriate height. Then, she swung her legs. Swiveled her hips. And there was no shifting.

And she smiled wider.

What Brennan didn't know is that Booth had been watching her for a bit. So when she smiled on the fourth machine, swinging her legs a little extra hard to make sure it was particularly stable, he couldn't hold back any longer.

He cleared his throat as he neared and she leapt from the machine like it burned her.

"Hey, Bones…" he drawled out, wearing a big grin, while she crossed her arms defensively. "Did you find a machine you liked?"

"I… was just checking the machine's… stability, because… the repetitive oscillation and the centrifugal force used to remove the water…" she stammered, as he closed in on her and backed her up into the machine.

"…can be loud and… therefore intrusive to… to normal activities and possibly... interrupt Christine's sleeping patterns…" she continued, while he nodded in pretend belief of her reasoning, boxing her tightly between him and the washing machine.

"Oh, keep going Bones. You know I like it when you talk squinty to me."

"Booth…"

"No, seriously. Tell me more about the septa-frugal force of this washing machine."

"It's a combination of _centrifugal_ force and gravity that makes the machine work…" she responded automatically.

"And, uh… what about the size of the machine, Bones? Do you think it will fit in the spot of the old one?" he asked, his breath ghosting over her lips.

"It has approximately the same dimensions," she responded, her gaze darting between his eyes and his lips.

"What about the height, Bones?" he asked, lifting her back into a sitting position on the machine. "Is it a good height?"

Brennan squeezed her eyes shut in attempt to school her features and searched for a disapproving tone. "Booth, we're in the middle of a store," she managed to say, more breathlessly than she would have liked.

And in the middle of a store they were. They had been standing there long enough for others to have wandered into the laundry appliance area, earning them some sideways glances from fellow shoppers.

"That fact didn't seem to bother you a minute ago, when you were _testing _the machines here," Booth shot back. She shot him an annoyed look, seconds before deciding to get even and fluster him in return.

A scrawny, yet brave salesman, was the first to interrupt them.

"Ma'am? Sir? Can I help you with something?"

Booth chuckled, his gaze not leaving hers as he responded. "Yes… we need to buy a new washing machine. We're thinking this one, right Bones?"

Brennan replied, a knowing smirk on her face as she slid off the machine and slithered under Booth's arms and behind him, keeping him facing the machine.

"Yes," she confirmed, pushing Booth forward with the full-length of her body, to see where the top of the machine hit him, grinning when she heard him gasp. "I think this one will be an acceptable substitute."

The sales associate cleared his throat, and Brennan eventually gave Booth a firm enough push to put space between them. In the time it took for Booth to tell the salesman they would take it with them today, Brennan had wandered away.

"Bones," he called after her, starting in her direction. "Where're you going?"

She paused and turned back to him. "The aisle with bathroom accessories. The washing machine got me thinking that I could really use a shower seat," she said.

"A shower seat? Why on Earth would you need…" he started, but she cut him off.

"It will be more comfortable than kneeling frequently, Booth," she said casually.

She waited just long enough to watch his jaw drop, then turned and walked away smiling as he stumbled to catch up.

* * *

**It's done, it's over. I'll write better next time. Maybe. :p**

**Other new commercial ideas?**


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